


let love take the lead

by Elva_Barr



Category: Glee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Cunnilingus, F/F, First Time, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-02 00:04:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elva_Barr/pseuds/Elva_Barr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sweet, happy first time sex for Kurt and Blaine (who are cis ladies in this fic). "Kurt has such a beautiful profile, and Blaine knows she’s got at least a full minute to stare dreamily because Kurt’s busy drooling over the wide, stiff collars of Chanel’s Spring 2012 couture line."</p>
            </blockquote>





	let love take the lead

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. this is a sort-of AU in that Kurt and Blaine are cis ladies (ie, assigned a female sex at birth and identifying as women).  
> 2\. title from Drunk on Love by Rihanna.  
> 3\. concrit, notes, and suggestions are always welcome!  
> 4\. a Kurt’s boner-sized thank you to my absolutely incredible beta, Carly (audenrain on tumblr)
> 
> warnings: unprotected sex, sex between characters who are minors but over the age of consent.

“Karl Lagerfield can do no wrong,” Blaine sighs happily, turning her head to look at Kurt. Kurt has such a beautiful profile, and Blaine knows she’s got at least a full minute to stare dreamily because Kurt’s busy drooling over the wide, stiff collars of Chanel’s Spring 2012 couture line.

She loves lying next to Kurt like this, on their stomachs with Kurt’s Macbook open in front of them, poring over the latest fashion news - to be honest, sometimes Blaine isn’t as interested in analyzing Valentino’s pre-fall line, but watching Kurt... She gets so enthusiastic, and she exclaims over every little thing, happy to just sit and geek out about hemlines and headdresses without worrying that someone’s going to call her out on looking at the models. Blaine would never make that assumption or try to joke about it, if only because she’s looking at Kurt.

“Can you imagine if Coco Chanel were alive to wear this? Just look at the silhouette, it’s practically screaming for her to wear it, although I’m not sure how I feel about the pockets.” If they weren’t lying down, Kurt would be jumping up and down. She claps her hands together a little bit, and Blaine can’t help but feel warmed at her infectious joy.

Blaine hums in agreement, adding, “I thought it was a little Jackie Kennedy - ”

Kurt cuts her off. “No, no, let’s please not talk about Jackie Kennedy, ever since the other day when Rachel said that she emulates her style, I can’t get it out of my head.”

Blaine laughs when Kurt fake-shivers in horror. With a shrill falsetto, she says, “Elizabeth, I just don’t understand why you can’t appreciate the beauty of my well-matching and consistent wardrobe.”

They giggle a little, and Kurt bumps Blaine’s shoulder with her own. “Don’t do that, because the resemblance is creepy enough already.”

“I’m not like Rachel Berry,” Blaine protests, pouting. “I’m at least two inches taller.”

“No,” Kurt says softly, “you’re not like her at all.”

Blaine ducks her head and grins, maybe blushing a little, but she didn’t take her make-up off yet, so it’s probably not noticeable. The thing is, she’s sure that Kurt knows about her crush by now, how could she not? Blaine’s not very subtle. People had made so many comments already about how they were probably dating, and Blaine couldn’t forget the way Kurt looked at her when she said, “Just because we’re lesbians doesn’t mean we’re dating, and I can’t believe people would be so small-minded as to think that.”

She’s not sure Kurt would be interested, anyway; Blaine knows she’s no Quinn Fabray -- Kurt told her about the crush she’d had on her, even going so far as to get Finn’s mom and Burt to fall in love just for the chance to spend a little more time with Quinn. Kurt admits now that she has done some borderline crazy things, but it really only makes Blaine love her more. She’s not crazy, just - determined.

Kurt sighs and shakes her head. “I’m sorry, I got distracted for a minute there.”

“Yeah,” Blaine says. She’s sure that she’s still smiling her goofy grin, but she can’t help it around Kurt. “You know, I’m starting to think you just picked out the Chanel collection to look at because they all have your hair - with that little poof.” She gestures at the computer screen, where the model has a similar pompadour to Kurt’s own.

Kurt had chopped it before she met Blaine - an incident where a few of the Cheerios had stuck a “really impressive amount” of gum in it, and Kurt cut it all off in frustration. Kurt never regrets it, though, glad instead to be the only girl in the school whose hair makes such a _statement_ , whether she’s styled it with a spiky, asymmetrical bang, or her current pompadour or something so complicated Blaine doesn’t even have a name for it.

“No! Come on, I don’t use _half_ that much product in my hair, unlike some people I could name!” Kurt’s voice always rises when she gets incensed, and although she herself hates it (“I’m not a little girl!”), Blaine thinks it’s adorable.

“Oh yeah?” Blaine reaches over, letting her fingers play with the top of Kurt’s hair, fluffing it and scratching the top of her head with her fingernails. “I don’t know, I’ve seen your diverse and plentiful hairspray collection, I think you could give me a run for my money...”

Kurt shrieks, trying to shake her head free - it’s a little difficult because Kurt does use hairspray, and she pushes at Blaine’s hand with her head, toppling them both to the bed. She ends up with her head pressed awkwardly into Blaine’s breasts, and Blaine would laugh if she didn’t feel so hopelessly overwhelmed.

“Sorry,” Kurt says, blushing furiously and leaning up. One of her hands comes up to her own hair, sliding underneath Blaine’s own so she can gently pull both of them out. Their fingers twine together and Blaine stares at Kurt’s fingernail polish, feeling too breathless to look her in the eye.

She feels a puff of breath by her cheek and breaks, looking at Kurt who is so impossibly close to her. Blaine feels like she’s in slow motion; she hears herself say Kurt’s name but the only thing on her mind is the brightness in Kurt’s eyes and the sudden, _wonderful_ press of Kurt’s mouth against her own.

Immediately, Kurt pulls back and there’s three beats of silence where neither of them say anything - Blaine doesn’t even know what to say, but she tries to nod her head when Kurt starts to look nervous, to give her any type of sign that yes, this is exactly what she wants, she is so on board with this idea.

Blaine is still nodding when Kurt leans in again, and really kisses her this time, _really_ kisses her - she doesn’t even know where Kurt gained this kind of confidence but she certainly appreciates it. Their hands are still linked together. When Blaine moves her head to try and deepen their kiss, she feels Kurt’s hand squeeze tightly around her own. It’s one of the most intense things she’s ever felt. They’ve held hands before but it’s never felt so brazenly sexual.

She slides her other hand over Kurt’s neck, afraid to mess up her hair any more but so tempted by the soft hair at the nape of her neck, where it’s short and neat, perfect to scratch at with her fingernails. Kurt finally gasps and breaks their kiss, turning her head towards the side. She rolls to the side of the bed and immediately, Blaine follows. Kurt’s lips part and she pulls Blaine towards her for another kiss, her free hand sliding under Blaine’s shirt.

 _Jesus_ , Blaine thinks to herself. She’s kissed girls before, certainly - but she’s never kissed _Kurt_. Of course it’s different: Kurt is everything that Blaine’s ever wanted. She’s spent hours around Kurt, trying to stop herself from just grabbing her and planting one right on her mouth, and now she’s free to kiss Kurt like she’s dreamed of for so long. Wet, and hard and intense like a blast of cold air on her naked skin when she comes out of the shower.

Blaine feels nails dig into her back when she bites at Kurt’s lips, and Kurt giggles.

“I guess I’ll have to trim them. I mean, not that - I don’t mean - ” Her voice is a frantic whisper, and she swallows wetly before continuing. “I only meant, I was thinking of the future, unless you don’t want to do anything in the future - ”

Blaine thinks it might be a little rude to interrupt Kurt with a kiss, but it’s inevitable. Kurt’s irresistible when she’s nervous, her cheeks flushed and her eyes alight with hope. Blaine traces her tongue across the soft, lush part of Kurt’s lips. She doesn’t know how to say it, how to even begin to explain everything that she wants to do to Kurt, but then Kurt’s breasts brush against her own, making her own bra press against her nipples, and Blaine shudders.

“I want to. God, Kurt, I want to do everything to you,” Blaine says, her voice cracking midway.

Kurt sighs, holding on to Blaine’s hand and gripping tightly. She’s bold enough that her other hand plays with the edge of Blaine’s bra. Blaine was silly enough to think that she was regaining her composure, but Kurt’s soft fingers make her shiver and press in closer.

Kurt’s the first to recover, pressing a soft kiss to Blaine’s lips before asking, “What does ‘everything’ mean? Tell me. We can - we can say it together, on the count of three.”

Blaine smiles. It’s how they’ve released secrets to each other all along. Sometimes Blaine didn’t even have a secret to tell Kurt, but Kurt would always say “okay, on three!” and Blaine would just make something up or tell her a secret from her past so that Kurt wouldn’t feel alone in her admission. The past few months, it had been harder than ever to stop herself from saying “you’re the most beautiful girl I know” when Kurt called for confession time.

“Okay. One... two...,” Blaine whispers, feeling the tension in the air escalate and glide across her skin.

She sees Kurt’s tongue peek out to wet her lips and promptly forgets what it felt like to kiss her, wants to kiss her again.

She remembers the first time they’d confessed something to each other, it was when Kurt told her about Dave Karofsky, and the way he’d touched her, how he’d _kissed_ her as if that could have made either of them straight - Blaine can’t think about it without tearing up inside, wanting to start a war, do anything so that Kurt would never be put in that situation again. Kurt had cried, she’d been devastated and Blaine just wants to keep her safe, all the time -

“Three, I want your mouth,” Kurt whispers, giddy and impatient.

Blaine gapes. She was going to say “three,” she just likes drawing out the tension and usually Kurt appreciates the drama, but then she got distracted with her memories and the sheen of Kurt’s hair. And Kurt wants -

“Yes, god,” Blaine says, surging against Kurt and flipping her over. She doesn’t bother to quell Kurt’s giggles, instead kissing down the slope of her neck. She bites at Kurt’s collarbone, and has to stop herself from pinning Kurt’s arms above her head. _Easy, tiger_ , Blaine tells herself.

She’d always imagined that if they ever did get together, it would be slow. Sweet, steady kisses goodnight after elaborate dates, maybe getting to second base on their one-month anniversary, and their first time they might be too shy to even look, choosing instead to undress each other in the dark. It wasn’t that Blaine didn’t think Kurt would be ready, necessarily; she didn’t think she herself would be ready, either. Blaine couldn’t anticipate this - hard, furious kisses in broad daylight, feeling this fire within that was pulling her towards Kurt, and Kurt telling her she wanted Blaine’s _mouth_ , Jesus Christ.

Kurt’s breath hitches on an inhale, a small sound escaping her flushed lips and Blaine realizes she _has_ pinned Kurt to the bed, one hand still interlaced with Kurt’s and the other clutching her upper arm, pushing it into the pillow. Blaine looks up from the - _yowza_ \- rather significant hickey she’s left on Kurt’s collarbone. Kurt’s panting, her chest expanding and contracting rapidly. Every time Kurt inhales, her back arches a little and Blaine can see the lace of her bra through her starched button-up shirt.

Blaine stares at her in a kind of wonder, feeling Kurt’s body press up against her own. Now that Kurt’s told her what she wants, she can’t stop thinking about it. Being able to see Kurt, smell her _there_ , Blaine can’t put into words how many times she’s thought about just burying her face between Kurt’s legs and she doesn’t really know what to do but she wouldn’t give up until Kurt came.

Kurt’s looking back at her, too, and before Blaine can say anything, Kurt nods shakily. She gently unclasps her hand from Blaine’s and trails it down to the first button of her shirt, unfastening the row of buttons on her shirt quickly. Blaine straddles Kurt, sitting up on all fours above her so that she has more room to maneuver.

When Kurt reaches the last button, she glances up at Blaine, hand poised over the zipper on her skirt. Blaine nearly swallows her tongue, but manages to nod all the same. The zipper’s on the side so Kurt manages to get it down without any difficulty, but she gets stuck on the clasp.

Blaine reaches out with barely shaking hands and unhooks the clasp keeping the skirt together. Her hands brush against the soft inner skin of Kurt’s hip, and Kurt must be sensitive there because her hips jerk up and her arms twitch. It’s then that Blaine realizes Kurt’s moved her hand back onto the pillow and _is keeping both of her arms above her head_.

Blaine scrambles to pull the skirt off of Kurt, and Kurt in turn is very helpful, raising her hips and frantically whispering “yes, yes, yes” when Blaine’s fingers catch on the side of her underwear, this tiny pale pink thong.

She manages to get it all down Kurt’s legs, glad that Kurt would never wear shoes to bed, and when she looks up the length of Kurt’s body, her eyes skitter over the area in between Kurt’s legs, focusing on the smooth plane of her belly and the (of course it’s matching) lacy pink bra she’s wearing. Kurt’s face, of course, normally so pale it’s otherworldly, is three shades redder than her lingerie.

Blaine leans up again so she’s hovering over Kurt. It’s hard to keep herself above Kurt without pushing her weight onto her as well, but she manages to keep most of her weight on one forearm, using her free hand to push the sides of Kurt’s shirt out, exposing more of her body to Blaine.

There’s a clasp on the front of Kurt’s bra. They’ve changed in front of each other before, so she knows that Kurt prefers the front-clasp kind, but since they’re never sturdy enough to support Blaine’s own breasts, she doesn’t really know how it works.

Kurt catches on quickly to everything, of course, and, still blushing furiously, unclasps the hook holding the bra together one-handed, her arm settling back above her head when she’s done.

The flush on her face extends down her neck, all the way to the tops of her lovely pale breasts, and Blaine can’t _not_ look down. She hears Kurt suck in a soft breath and sees her pale pink nipples harden in front of her eyes.

“Oh, must be cold,” Blaine mumbles to herself and she sits up so that she’s straddling Kurt, her hands free to gently cup her breasts. Blaine’s always been fairly warm, but Kurt’s skin feels hot under her hands, and Blaine can feel gooseflesh on the skin.

She’s never done this before - the closest she’s gotten is Danielle awkwardly groping her over the bra on a drunken dare from one of the Crawford boys, and this can’t even compare. Kurt is naked under her, so incredibly vulnerable and _she wants Blaine to go down on her_ , which is some kind of impossible wonder that Blaine can’t begin to comprehend.

“Your hands are warm,” Kurt remarks. “I get cold really easily.”

“Mm, must be why you’re always wearing a bra even though you could get away without it half of the time,” Blaine says, but she can’t bring herself to look into Kurt’s eyes, staring at her own fingertips tracing gently back and forth across the tops of her breasts.

Kurt laughs and gently bumps her knee against Blaine’s. “Not all of us can be D cups,” she mumbles.

“Oh come on, Kurt, I wear a B cup, don’t be ridiculous,” Blaine says, still rubbing her hands over Kurt’s breasts.

“Really?” Kurt frowns and tilts her head up at Blaine, keeping her hands above her head - although Blaine can’t think about that right now, because she needs to actually hear what Kurt’s saying. “Blaine, you’re at least a C, probably 34 or 36, you know, actually, we should go to Saks and get you sized, now that you mention it.”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” Blaine grins, leaning down for a kiss. When Kurt sputters into silence, Blaine leans down to kiss at just above her hands. With that soft kiss, it feels as if a sudden hush has fallen over them, this sort of reverence, and Blaine feels a pressure to please Kurt, to make this moment as special as possible.

When Blaine slides her hands down to Kurt’s ribcage and presses a gentle kiss just under her nipple, Kurt shudders hard, all over. “Don’t stop,” she says, still trembling just a little.

Blaine nods and draws a rosy nipple into her mouth, careful not to apply too much pressure - Kurt must be sensitive - but softly dragging her tongue across the bud.

Blaine means to spend more time here: she’s dreamed of pressing a deep hickey into the pretty concave between Kurt’s breasts, but when she runs her index finger across one nipple, Kurt makes a soft noise and her hips jerk up under Blaine. Blaine sucks in a deep breath at the movement, and she can _smell_ her, smell Kurt, Kurt who’s pliant under her and flushed and making soft sweet noises and wants Blaine’s mouth on her.

Blaine feels her mouth water, and maybe that’s embarrassing but she can’t bring herself to care. Kurt smells heady, she smells amazing, and Blaine shimmies down her body until she’s lying on her stomach with Kurt’s legs spread around her, looking into Kurt’s eyes waiting for her to tell Blaine that she’s ready.

Kurt doesn’t say anything, she only breathes out a shuddering sigh and nudges Blaine in the midriff with her foot. Blaine nods, and looks down.

She’s not surprised that Kurt’s bare; they’d had an extremely illuminating, though awkward, conversation about their preferences once and Kurt had confessed that she did it because she liked the way it felt when she touched herself. (Blaine didn’t, and she couldn’t understand how Kurt could bear to have sharp objects near her privates, although she did make an effort to “clean up” every few weeks with a hand mirror and a pair of scissors. Also, Kurt talking about touching herself overwhelmed any feeling of disconnect about different grooming preferences, as well as fueling many nighttime fantasies.)

Kurt must not have had time to shave this morning, though, because there’s soft stubble on her mound, and Blaine rubs her fingers over it softly. Kurt says, “oh, I,” above her but quiets the minute that Blaine touches her mouth to the slightly slick skin of Kurt’s inner thigh.

She tastes as heady as she smells, and Blaine’s sucking a bruise into her skin before she can stop herself, licking off all of the wetness on Kurt’s inner thighs, and only when Kurt skin is damp with Blaine’s spit rather than her slick does Blaine press a soft kiss to her pussy.

Blaine hears Kurt gasp and say something above her, but she can’t hear her over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. She gently flicks her tongue out, pressing it gently inside Kurt, where her taste is the strongest, and moves it up the slit.

Kurt feels so soft, and she makes noise in response to _everything_ Blaine does. It makes Blaine feel indescribably powerful, because Kurt’s never like this, Kurt never gives someone this much power over her and she’s trusting Blaine with this. She’s trusted Blaine with her secrets, with her memories, and now she’s trusting her with her body. Blaine can’t believe how lucky she is.

Blaine licks hard against Kurt’s opening and Kurt squirms against her, trying to shift her hips so that she can get her clit up against Blaine’s mouth - Blaine doesn’t let her, stilling her hips with both of her hands. Blaine chuckles, her warm breath tickling Kurt’s labia. When Kurt whines, she finally lets her tongue flick ever so softly against Kurt’s clit.

In response, Kurt’s whine only becomes louder, higher, and she says, “Blaine!”

She stops and looks up at Kurt. Kurt’s _wild_ \-- her mouth is stark red, her eyes wide and blue against the flush of her cheeks, and she’s kept her arms above her head by winding them into her own hair. Blaine doesn’t think she even has words for how hot that is, and if Kurt’s already messed up her own hair, maybe she’ll let Blaine run her fingers through it later.

Kurt breathes out sharply, hips shifting, and when she speaks, her voice is high, breathy. “Why’d you stop?”

Blaine licks at Kurt’s clit again, earning her another gasp. “Sorry,” she says. “You just - I’ve never seen you like this before.”

“I’ve never been like this before,” Kurt replies.

She grips Kurt’s hips harder, letting her mouth spread wide across Kurt’s cunt. She sucks, gently, and releases a contemplative hum when Kurt moans. Kurt’s hips shift under her hands, pressing up every time that Blaine flicks her tongue side to side just under Kurt’s clit.

Blaine can feel that Kurt’s more turned on than she was before; she’s swollen and her cunt is so _hot_. Her clitoris is bigger, too, than when Blaine first started.

Kurt feels wet, too, when she brings a hand up to trace at her outer lips and inner thighs, but she doesn’t know if it’s from Kurt’s pussy or her own mouth. Blaine’s mouth is still watering, and every time she gets another taste of that sharp _wetness_ , her hips press into the mattress. She feels more aware of her own arousal than she ever has before.

She’s trying to forget about her own pleasure, but she can’t because it’s directly linked to Kurt’s - every time Kurt moans, Blaine feels her own pussy clench, and it only makes her tongue move faster, her hands grip harder. Her face is pressed in so tightly in between Kurt’s legs and she’s not even sure she’s breathing anymore, she’s just flicking her tongue quickly across Kurt’s clit and living for Kurt’s moans.

When Kurt wails “I - I think I - ah, ah!”, her hips press in ever closer to Blaine’s mouth and she can’t keep her arms still anymore, hands clutching _hard_ at Blaine’s hair.

Blaine’s entire body flushes red-hot during Kurt’s orgasm, which can’t be longer than a few seconds but it feels like glorious eternity. Kurt’s hands pull her up after a minute, and Blaine’s body is still aflame when she wriggles up to face Kurt.

Kurt leans up a little, and tries to kiss Blaine but Blaine’s too shaken, too turned on to move her mouth.

“Please, Kurt, inside,” she says, frantically searching for Kurt’s right hand and leading it to in between her legs. _Thank god_ Blaine’s wearing a skirt.

Kurt’s hands are nimble, and the minute after she works Blaine’s underwear down, she slides two fingers right into Blaine. Kurt’s trying to kiss her, still, but Blaine can barely move her mouth along, all of her attention focused in between her legs, where Kurt’s index and middle fingers have deftly found her g-spot, working inside of her with circles.

Her mouth opens in a silent moan when Kurt’s palm presses up against her clit, too, and Kurt licks softly at her lips, chasing the taste of her own come.

Blaine rocks her hips into Kurt’s hand over and over until she’s about to _combust_ and then - she does. Blaine’s body is awash in flames and all she can do is pant softly into Kurt’s mouth, shuddering when it’s over and collapsing on top of her before Kurt even has a chance to slide her fingers out of Blaine.

She rolls to the side, and Kurt draws Blaine’s leg over both of her own, smearing Blaine’s own juices over her own thigh, but Blaine can’t bring herself to care. She can’t even bring herself to talk just yet.

Apparently, Kurt can’t either because all she does is laugh softly into Blaine’s mouth. Her smile is infectious. They fall asleep, just like that, breathing laughter into each others' mouths.


End file.
